


Poison

by Signe_chan



Category: The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-19
Updated: 2012-08-19
Packaged: 2017-11-12 12:06:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,061
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/490787
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Signe_chan/pseuds/Signe_chan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve finds Tony suffering from alcohol poisoning. Pre-slash. Hurt/Comfort.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Poison

Steve didn’t need to be a genius to know Tony had taken things too far this time. Then again, taking things too far was almost a hobby for Tony so he wasn’t too surprised. He’d headed up to Tony’s floor on a whim, mostly. It was late and he’d wanted to talk. Not about anything, just talk. It helped, sometimes, to have someone to distract him and Tony was very distracting and almost guaranteed to be awake and working on something at any time of the day. 

He was awake, but he wasn’t working on something. If Steve wasn’t sure that most of the bottles littered around the place were already mostly empty from the party they’d had last week on official completion of the building (again, though most of them had been living here for some time now) he’d have been rushing Tony straight to the hospital. As it was, he decided to assess the situation first. 

Several things told him Tony had taken things too far. One of them was the undeniable stench of vomit. Another was the fact that blood was running down Tony’s arm and the other man didn’t seem to have noticed. There was also the fact that when Steve walked into the room Tony didn’t even look up from his deep contemplation of the liquor bottle on the table. 

“Tony,” Steve said, stepping further into the room. Tony looked up, forehead creasing into a frown, then he slowly forced a smile on to his face, as though aware this was the correct response but not entirely sure how to enact it. 

“Steve,” he said. Or slurred. More the latter, really. “I think…I think this means something,” he said, gesturing around himself, and Steve could have told him that. It wasn’t like that kind of drunk was the kind of thing you got on a whim. 

“I’m sure it does,” Steve said reassuringly. Stepping closer to assess the damage. “How much have you had to drink exactly?” 

“Doesn’t matter,” Tony said, and he sounded oddly forlorn as he said it. It would almost be adorable if it wasn’t indicative of something very, very wrong. Tony had been coping so well, they’d all said so. Initially, when Pepper had decided it wasn’t working, they’d expected this. Expected the drinking and the dramatics, but Tony had been fine. He’d crashed around in his lab for a few days, sure, but he’d come out with a few new modification to the armour and they’d all thought that was it. 

And it wasn’t like today had been particularly stressful for Tony, either. Steve knew Fury hadn’t been in touch today because he’d spoken to Agent Hill earlier and Fury had spent the entire day in meetings. There had been no plots to take over the world to foil, no training missions even. It had been a spectacularly dull day. Steve didn’t think Tony had any business-related things, Pepper took care of most of that now anyway and he hadn’t mentioned anything. 

Which meant that, for the first time in months, Tony had probably been sat up here alone all day with nobody to bother him. 

The litter of bottles was starting to make a lot more sense. 

Tony was blinking owlishly, as though trying to make a decision, then he clumsily made a grab for the bottle he’d been contemplating when Steve walked in. He missed, and that was more than a little worrying. Steve quickly grabbed the bottle himself, setting it aside and sitting down on the table in front of Tony. Tony blinked at him, as though a little confused by where the alcohol had gone and where Steve had come from. 

“Jarvis,” Steve called out, reaching out to lay a steadying hand on Tony’s shoulder. The AI still confused him a little but, well, it would normally have alerted someone if Tony got in to a state like this, wouldn’t it? 

“Turned him of,” Tony said, leaning against Steve’s hand, and Steve sighed. Unless he was very wrong, Tony was looking like he had alcohol poisoning. The confusion, the lack of coordination and the vomiting, textbook. His skin was also cold to the touch which was never a good sign. He’d read up on it in the wake of the breakup, anticipating a situation like this. Particularly with what he knew of Tony’s past drinking habits. He’d felt he needed to be ready, now he felt anything but ready. 

“Hey,” he said, reaching the hand that wasn’t holding Tony up by the shoulder across to brush against Tony’s forehead. Yeah, cold. And clammy. But his breathing seemed pretty regular still so it couldn’t be that bad. “Want to watch a movie.” 

Tony looked at him a little like he’d grown a second head, but he didn’t seem opposed to the idea so Steve pushed him back on to the couch gently, freeing himself to stand up. He gathered the bottles near them, carrying them over and dumping them on the bar, then grabbing the first aid kit he’d knew Tony stashed there. The cut on his arm didn’t look like anything major, but he’d like to check it anyway. He then grabbed a glass and filled it with water before heading back over to Tony who was watching him wearily. 

“Here,” he said, handing the glass over. “You should drink this.” 

“I’m fine,” Tony said, but it lacked conviction and after a few seconds he took a tentative sip. Steve smiled and sat down next to him, gently pulling Tony’s sleeve up. The cut was only small, probably caused by broken glass, it did look like that had been a feature of Tony’s evening. Steve cleaned and bandaged it quickly, aware that Tony was watching him as he did so, the glass of water still clutched in his hand. 

Steve wished he had Jarvis right now. He thought he remembered correctly. Back in the day the advice had always been to put someone in this situation to bed to sleep it off, but he remembered the websites he’d found had advised against that. He just hoped he remembered properly. He took the glass back from Tony, carrying it over to the seats in front of the (blessedly easy to operate) media centre. He grabbed a DVD at random and set it up before going back to retrieve Tony. It was another layer of worry that the man hadn’t said anything in so long, just sat there looking lost and confused and a little broken. Steve pulled him up by his elbows and took him over to the couch and then slipped into the bedroom to retrieve a throw to drape around his shoulders. 

“I’m ok, Steve,” Tony said at that, but the way he was swaying in his seat didn’t make it very convincing. Steve just hoped the throwing up part of the evening was over. Still being able to smell it on Tony was bad enough, he didn’t want it down him too. 

“I know,” Steve said, sitting down next to Tony and hitting play on the DVD. “I just wanted some company, you don’t mind, right?” 

Tony blinked at him, then at the movie, but he didn’t protest again. After a few moments he let Steve hand him the glass of water again and a few moments later Steve slipped an arm around his shoulder, pulling him close. Tony went willingly, laying his head on Steve’s chest with a sigh, and it would have been beautiful if Steve wasn’t so scared. 

He’d never seen Tony like this. Never wanted to see him like this. Tony was…he was the one who had a comeback for any situation. He was the one who ran this team, really. The brains behind it. The one who’d given them a home here, something Steve hadn’t even known he’d needed until he had it. He was the one who had never been afraid of Bruce, who had brought them all together time and again when Steve was sure they were done for this time. Maybe Steve was in awe of him a little. In a way Tony embodied everything about this future that Steve found frightening. His technology and his morals, nothing matched up to how Steve expected life to be. But he wasn’t frightening, not once Steve got past that. New, yes, but underneath it all was a good man, the kind of man Steve could respect. 

He just wished Tony could see himself that way. Wished he didn’t drink and sleep around and all the other things he did. Wished he’d value himself a little more. 

“Why’d you hate me?” Tony slurred, and Steve realised he’d been ignoring the movie for a while. Tony’s glass was empty and Steve’s hand had come up to play in his hair. 

“I don’t hate you,” he said, frowning. “What on earth makes you think that?” 

“Don’t take my stuff,” Tony said, shifting a little so he could pull back and look at Steve. He seemed more focused which was definitely a good thing. “Everyone else takes my stuff, why won’t you let me give you things?” 

“I do let you give me things,” Steve replied. “You gave me an entire floor of your house. I won’t take things from you that I don’t need, that would be rude.” 

“Want you to have them,” Tony said, letting his head flop forward so his forehead rested back on Steve’s shoulder. He stayed there for a few minutes, apparently composing his thoughts. “I want…want you to like me.” 

“I do like you,” Steve said, but Tony was shaking his head against Steve’s shoulder. Steve sighed, bringing his hand to Tony’s hair deliberately this time and threading his fingers through it, tugging at the strands at the base of his neck. “You’re one of my best friends, of course I like you.” 

Tony blinked at him again, as if Steve were a particularly stubborn bit of tech that was refusing to do what Tony wanted. But the answer must have been enough because after a few minutes of scrutiny Tony heaved a great sigh and threw his arm over Steve, relaxing against him again. 

“I think I drank too much,” Tony said after a seconds, and Steve couldn’t help but laugh.

“Yeah,” he said. “I think you did. Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone.” 

“Thanks,” Tony said, and that was apparently the end of that conversation as he turned back to the movie. Steve spent a little while trying to make sense of it all, but it was such a mess. I didn’t get the link between his not accepting everything Tony tried to give him and the apparent certainty Tony had that Steven didn’t like him. 

The film rolled to an end and Tony pulled himself up from Steve’s chest. He was still unfocused, clumsy, but he seemed warmer than he had before and that was something. 

“I think we should watch another movie,” Steve said, brushing his hand across Tony’s forehead. The other man blinked at him, then shuck his head slowly. 

“I think I need to sleep, don’t feel too good.” 

“I know, Tony,” Steve sighed, reaching out to stroke his hair again. It was oddly comforting, touching Tony like this, and Tony must have agreed because he was leaning in to the touch. “I think it would be best if you stayed awake a little longer though. Just one more movie?” 

“If you want,” Tony conceded, looking at Steve as though he wasn’t quite sure why the other man was here spending time with him. “Don’t you have more important things to do?” 

“There isn’t anything more important,” Steve said, simply. He changed the DVD while Tony was thinking it over and when he say down Tony moved readily in to his arms again, resting his head on Steve’s shoulder. It was nice, intimate. Steve almost wished they could do this when Tony was sober, though he doubted he’d ever get a sober Tony to relax in to him so completely. 

“You should run away,” Tony informed him about half way through the second car chase. “I’m trouble.” 

“That’s no problem,” Steve informed him. “I’m used to trouble.” 

“No, really. I destroy people’s lived.” 

“Now you’re just being melodramatic,” Steve said, tone light. 

“That’s what Pepper said,” Tony supplied, and Steve’s heart clenched. “Said she couldn’t like a normal life if she was always worrying about me. If I was alive or dead. Think I’m not meant to have nice people.” 

“You’ve got me,” Steve mumbled, running his hand over Tony’s back. “The rest of the team too. I’m not saying we all like you all of the time, but we’re all still here. If you were going to drive us away you’d probably have done it by now.” 

“You should go before it’s too late.” 

“Never.” 

Tony went quiet again after that, staring in to space but not sleeping, and that was all Steve asked. He felt a little like he should do something to life the mood but he’d never been very good at that. All he could do was be here to make sure Tony didn’t choke on his own vomit and hold him. After all, he could say “I won’t leave” in a million ways but it was easier to show it. 

By the time the movie had ended Tony seemed more himself. Tired but capable of standing and picking up a glass of water, so Steve decided it would be alright for him to sleep. They had a slight impasse when they got to the bedroom where they looked at each other over the bed and Steve declared he wasn’t leaving. He’d kind of expected Tony for fight him over it but the other man had just looked lost for a second and agreed. Steve had stripped them both down to their underwear and got them in bed, Tony lying across his chest again. 

“This is nice,” Tony whispered, tightening his hold. “I wish I could do this and remember it.” 

“Just sleep,” Steve replied, wishing he had the nerve to return the sentiment. 

~*~*~*~

Steve had, in the back of his mind, expected the next morning to be a study in awkward interaction. He hadn’t counted on Tony’s terrible hangover, or the fact that he’d end up spending his day bringing water and cold towels and running Tony’s back. Tony drifted in and out of sleep for the day, letting Steven put fluids in him when he was awake then drifting out again. It was almost worse in Steve’s mind then the alcohol poisoning of the night before because at least he’d had an idea what to do that. Now he was lost. 

Tony did, eventually, wake up long enough to turn Jarvis back on which was a relief. 

By the evening he was feeling more himself, even managing to complain a little about Steve’s hovering. He’d stopped that when he’d got to the living room and seen the mess of bottles and broken glass and the splash of his own blood across the couch. He’d just been quiet for a while after that and let Steve feed him. 

Things got tense around bed time. The problem being, Tony was mostly recovered now, but not quite. Steve knew this, he really did, but he didn’t want to leave. Not yet. Tony still seemed vulnerable, somehow, and it wasn’t that Steve thought he was in any danger any more, he just wanted to carry on protecting him. So while he knew that when Tony went to lay down he should make an excuse and leave, instead he found himself lying down too, as though he had any right to be there. 

“Steve,” Tony said, and Steve winced a little. “Not that I’m throwing you out of my bed or anything but, well, you don’t need to be here right now.” 

“I know,” Steve said, flushing. “I just...I’ll feel better tomorrow, I promise, I just don’t want to leave you alone right now.” 

“Steve...” 

“I’m not...If you need me to go then I’ll go but please, just let me stay here. Just for tonight.” 

“I feel like this should be the other way round,” Tony teased. “I’m the one who’s made a fool of myself in front of you. I should be begging you not to go.” 

“Like I told you last night, I’m not going anywhere.” 

“You should.” 

“Nope. Not having this conversation. You’re stuck with me now. Though I will get out of your bed if I’m making you uncomfortable or something.” 

“No,” Tony replied, rolling over and laying his head on Steve’s arm. “Not uncomfortable. Is this alright?” 

“Yeah,” Steven said softly, reaching around to pull Tony in to him properly. Tony went readily, wrapping his arm around Steve and pressing his face in to his shoulder. 

“Would this be the wrong time to talk about my feelings about you, and all the reasons it’s a bad idea?” Tony asked, and Steve’s breath caught a little. He hadn’t let himself think even for a moment that his feeling might be anything other than unrequited, but apparently they might be. 

Then he remembered Tony from last night. Tony who was drunk and broken and needed a friend so badly. 

“Probably the wrong time, yeah,” he agreed. “Not that...not that I don’t want to have that conversation. I just think that before we have it, you need to trust that I’m not going to leave you.” 

“I’d trust in that a lot more if you let me give you this...” 

“Tony, this shouldn’t be about you giving me things. If you HAVE to give me something, to feel like you’re buying my friendship, give me your time. Watch movies with me or something, that means more to me than anything. If something else comes, it’ll come, but I don’t want it if it’s just a gift from you, not something we do together.” 

“It wouldn’t just be a gift,” Tony mumbled, but he seemed to let it slide. Steve still wasn’t sure what his deal was with giving things, but he was willing to work around it. After a while be started to drift and just before he slipped fully in to sleep he could swear he heard Tony whisper “thank you”.


End file.
